"Well!" said Va-bon-train. "My friend Blanchet will take him on my recommendation. Take him, friend; I know him, and will be answerable for him."
"Nonsense! what are you talking about?"
"Nothing; only that I shall see you at Lyons, whither you are returning:—but when?"
"I shall be there on Monday week."
"And so shall I; and I will come and dine with you: we will arrange this matter over our glasses. But, at all events, you will take the lad if I am answerable for him; do not make me break my word."
"No, no; the thing is settled; good bye till Monday week;" and they parted.
"But Gervais must be told," said Michael, trembling with joy.
"Go, then, and make haste back; tell him to be at Lyons by Monday week, if possible; but, above all, he must take care that the old toad knows nothing about it." This was his usual epithet for La Mauricaude. Michael departed, and Va-bon-train went to a neighbouring tavern, into which he had seen Matthew and his company enter. The price of a pair of stockings worth fifty sous, which had been stolen from a shop at the fair, and sold a quarter-of-an-hour afterwards for twenty, served to defray the expenses of the party; and Matthew, owing to the cheapness of the wine that season, was just on the verge of intoxication, when Va-bon-train, coming up, said to him, "Matthew, there is but one word between you and me: when I go one way, you must take care and go the other; if you don't, your old toad and her young one will every morning get for their breakfast a sound dressing from this whip."
"As for me, Vincent, I am an honest man," stammered Matthew. La Mauricaude was about to vociferate; and the host took part with his customer.